Is That Why You're Running Away?
by vifetoile89
Summary: A series of short Jackunzel stories. In the seventh, an outcast has a chance of returning home - but what about his partner-in-crime? Avatar AU.
1. Blue Moon

Is That Why You're Running Away?

Jackunzel Week Stories

by Vifetoile

Explanation: in mid-May, timebenderss and compeltely-twitterpated hosted the first ever "Jackunzel Week," followed by "Merricup Week," on tumblr. Check it out on jackunzel-mericcup-week dot tumblr dotty com . I was proud of what I wrote for this week, so I decided I would share it (about a month later) with my readers. This is what happens when one gets involved with the Rise of the Brave Tangled Dragons crowd - creative madness!

Meta-Disclaimer: I don't own Tangled. I don't own Rise of the Guardians. I don't own Rise of the Brave Tangled Dragons. I don't own the Avatar-verse, or Hogwarts, or _anything._ Just enjoy what I cobbled together from pre-existing material, and feel free to review!

**Once in a Blue Moon**

(_Avatar verse AU. I've see some good Avatar-verse incarnations of the Big Four - the one that inspired me in particular had Rapunzel as Water Tribe, with white hair a la Yue, Jack as Air Nomad, Merida as a Yu Yuan Archer of the Fire Nation, and Hiccup as Earth Kingdom. It was really cool, but for this challenge, I thought I'd give it a different spin._)

Rapunzel knew that the two of them made quite a sight: a Water Tribe boy with stark white hair and bloodless pale skin, sitting restlessly beside a girl whose hair, when not pulled into a loose Fire Nation topknot, trailed behind her feet, and was as yellow as gold. The whispering fire and the moonlight brought out the colors even more. And most peculiarly, she was wrapping her hair around his hand, which had a bad cut in it.

"Are you sure this is really necessary?" Jack asked. "Because I've had worse than this. I can give healing it myself a go. I mean, I know nothing about healing with waterbending, but…"

Rapunzel took a deep breath, and her hazel-yellow eyes met his blue ones. "I told you once, remember, that you rise with the moon, but I rise with the sun. I'm about to show you what that means."

His eyes widened.

"Just… don't freak out, okay?"

He gave a questioning nod. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and began to chant. The chant had been used by the Sun Warriors, her mother said, the tribe that had revered and understood the sun better than any people since. She felt the crown of her head begin to pulse with energy, and her hair began to glow, growing warm and bright. She could feel Jack's hand twitching in hers, but she wouldn't let him pull away until the chant was over.

She opened her eyes sadly. Now he would see her for the spirits-touched freak that she was. And they had been getting along so well, too.

He was staring at his hand, his jaw hanging open slightly. He was about to say something…

"Don't freak out!" Rapunzel begged.

"Freak out? Freak _out_?" Jack didn't listen to a word she said. "Rapunzel, you _are _a bender!"

"What?"

"You bend _sunlight_! Sunlight – in your hair – and – wow, WOW!" He leapt up, inspecting his hand from all angles. "I had no idea – you're a shaman? A healer? You're – you're amazing! But you gotta explain." He sat down on the log beside her, suddenly all seriousness. "C'mon. Spill the beans."

"Okay… well… you certainly took the news better than I expected," she said, giving a small laugh as she pulled her hair over her shoulder.

"How did you expect me to take it?"

"… Badly," she answered. "I thought you'd be frightened and not want to understand it. The fact is, _I _don't even understand it that well." She took another deep breath and wrapped the hair around her wrist. "Mother has always told me that my chakras… do you know what chakras are?"

"Uh…"

"They're like the hubs in your body, through which energy flows. Each one corresponds to a different body part. And it so happens that for me, my thought chakra – which is located here—" Rapunzel patted the crown of her head –"has always been a little overactive. This means – well, one, that I'm a very spiritual person, not to brag or anything." She gave an uneasy smile. "Two, I'm more connected to the energy of the cosmos than most… particularly the energy of the sun, since I would be a firebender. This energy flows through me and through my hair, and lets me… yeah, I guess you could say bend sunlight. And sunlight is the only thing that I _can_ bend. Any fire that I try to bend is just a little spark. You've seen it. And it's not very well-understood – firebending to heal is a lost art nowadays."

"I didn't understand all of that," Jack admitted, "Mostly blah-blah-blah something about space, here comes the sun, doodoodoodoo. But fire for healing? You should share that with the world!"

"No, I shouldn't!" Her vehemence surprised him. She leaned back. "The thought chakra is the highest chakra of all, and if a person keeps it open and balanced, they can attain perfect enlightenment. But it's blocked by earthly attachments."

"You mean, like… food?"

"No, not food," she glared at him mock-seriously. "I mean like… anyone, or anything, that I might grow to love too much. It's why Mother kept me in the temple so that I could meditate and grow more spiritual, it's why I never left…" her voice faltered.

"You never left that temple?" Jack asked, disbelieving.

Rapunzel shook her head. "I only was allowed to visit the rest of Ember Island if… but you know what, I've talked too much. It's your turn."

"What?"

"How did you get _your_ hair color?" she tugged at his forelock, and he jumped back, ruffling it back into its desired tousledness.

"Well, it's a story I'm sure you've heard. Born in the water tribe… obviously…" he indicated his blue parka. "Really sick as a baby, family prayed to the Moon Spirit to heal me, they were _that_ desperate. I mean, those kinds of prayers only work once in a…" he stopped.

"Once in a blue moon?" Rapunzel finished.

"Yes. I was trying not to make that… was that a pun? I guess it was a pun. Anyway, this time, to everyone's surprise, I got better. But, to mark me, my hair and skin turned white. I mean, you've heard this story, haven't you?"

"Why?"

"Well – didn't something like that happen in the Fire Nation a while back? Some high-born lady was really sick with a baby, prayed to the Sun spirit, yadda yadda?"

Rapunzel shook her head.

"Oh. Right, really sheltered, aren't you… well, it didn't end all that happily. The baby that the Sun Spirit healed vanished right before dawn, like a month after she was born. Because the Spirits always take back what they give." Jack curled up and rested his head on his knees.

She bit her lip, confused and thinking. "Do you think that the Moon Spirit is trying to… take you back? Is that why you're always running away?"

"Who says I'm running away?" he asked with a short laugh.

"I do," she answered, completely serious.

"You don't know what you're talking about." His face darkened. "Do you know how hard it is to walk around in skin and hair that screams '_I'm different'_? Do you have any idea how it feels when everyone who looks at you _knows_ that you're touched by the Spirits? Afraid to make you mad, because then they might insult the Moon, or afraid to make you happy, because the only thing worse than a Spirit that hates you is a Spirit that loves you… You know, it's ironic. The Water Tribe is all about family and community and togetherness—" as he listed the words, he waved his arms back and forth in a simple waterbending form –"but that community, when it decides to exclude you, is like a wall. It's like ice. I'm not running _away _from anything, Rapunzel. I'm running towards my freedom, which neither the Water Tribe nor the Moon will ever give me."

After a long pause, she said, "Jack, you dolt, of _course_ I understand what you mean."

"… Really?"

"Yes… really. I'm not sure if you've noticed, but…" She ran one hand through the hair at her temple, pulling it into her lap and giving him a wry look.

"Oh… oh, you do. Sorry, I got a bit, uh, carried away."

"It's fine." She pointed her head at the fire, but her eyes kept flicking to his long hands, his blue eyes, his uncertain smile. "Are you… running so fast, that you can't let anyone run with you?"


	2. Sketching

**Make Hay While the Sun Shines**

That was what Mother always said, wasn't it? Mother wasn't always right – Rapunzel was learning that in full force with every passing day –but it was still solid good advice.

She had Jack Frost, here, in her tower. He was sitting still for once in his life, trading stories with Merida and Hiccup, each one trying to outdo the others. And Rapunzel had a pencil and a box of chalk and a drawing pad.

She found the spot with the best light, facing Jack Frost's right-side profile, sat down, and started to draw.

She relied on the conversation to keep him occupied while her pencil flew across the paper. First a loose circle for his skull – NO, that wasn't right! It was just a circle in pencil but it wasn't right! Further down the page she tried again. Another circle, some eyes and a triangle of a nose, just loose sketches, just to get her arm warmed up. Besides, the flight of the pencil and the loose, unfinished lines seemed to fit Jack. She couldn't associate him with long hours of solitary toil at her easel.

Well… maybe she _could_… with a little imagination…

She looked up again, wondering how on earth she would use chalk to catch the reflection of the light off of his skin. Or his hair. He was so animated, his expression changing from minute to minute– and she bent down again to try them, in the margins – a frown, a smirk, a dead-on impersonation of North. It hadn't quite worked – she hadn't gotten any of them quite right.

She drew on a memory, instead, from yesterday – seeing him fly past her, while she was on Toothless' back. The wind had been playing havoc with his hair. He had been smiling at her, teasing her, before he took off to somersault on his staff. He'd been entirely in his element, like a prince of the sky.

Did he have any idea how _marvelous_ he was?

Rapunzel sat back and sighed. She looked up at him for a moment, and found herself staring. His lanky frame, the long legs stretched out in front of him, the shock of white hair and those blue eyes and that _smile_… She looked down at her drawing pad. Why even attempt to capture it, when he was so inimitable and so perfect and right in front of –

He wasn't right in front of her anymore. He was right next to her, leaning over her shoulder and asking "What are you drawing, Zellie?"

"AAH! Nothing!" she flung the drawing pad away from her – and by a miracle of mis-coordination, managed to fling it right up into the air. As loose sheets of paper fluttered down like snowflakes and Rapunzel's heart beat out a merry tattoo, she attempted casualness, "Uh… why do you ask?"


	3. Icebound

**Vestige**

(A/N: This is supposed to be a follow-up to 'Make Hay While the Sun Shines.' Unless otherwise mentioned, these stories all take place in totally different universes. Also, angst follows. You have been warned.)

Jack was completely still. The moonlight accented him as the center of a chiaroscuro landscape: a pale figure, seven feet above the ground on the trunk of a black tree. Behind him, the black forest and ink-blue sky; below him, the wide field of pure white snow.

This would have been a good moment to draw him.

Except that, even as Rapunzel stepped closer and closer to him, she could recognize less and less of the Jack she knew. His skin, always pale, had taken on a blue sheen. Congealed ice covered his form. Icicles hung from his cloak, from his staff, even from his hair, where they obscured his face. He perched, motionless, in the rotted-out trunk of a dead tree. He might have been a statue; not even a puff of mist betrayed that he breathed.

Rapunzel stepped closer towards him, her heart aching for the carefree, lost boy. She wanted to shake him and urge the Jack she knew to show himself. She wanted to cry for him and beg him to come to life, for her love, because if his heart froze hers would break.

But she didn't. She was a princess; she knew that now. Hiccup and Merida had tried words, they had tried weapons, they had tried fire and lightning to get him to budge. Nothing had worked. Tears wouldn't work either.

"Hello, Jack," she said, when she stood before the dead tree and its silent guardian.

No answer came, except for her heart growing louder in her ears. Was this what love really meant? Was this what Merida and Hiccup shared, what Mother had never been able to give Rapunzel? Here Jack Frost was, some unrecognizable _thing_ of ice and darkness, not even recognizing her, and she still loved him, though it made no sense, she still loved him.

Rapunzel stood there for a minute, and then got bored. She had a very low tolerance for boredom. So she looked around for something to use, and spotted a stick, lying on the ground. She walked to it, picked it up, and walked back. Her boots crunched on the snow and her hair slid into place behind her.

She knelt in the snow and began to draw, each line precise and careful. She looked up, frequently, at her model. The portrait of Jack Frost in his new guise began to take shape. She was just reaching over to put the finishing touch on his staff when he spoke:

"What … are you… drawing?"

His voice cracked, and his words came slowly. She looked up at him with a smile that was perfectly balanced between brightness and sobriety.

"I'm drawing you."

"_Why_?"

She heard the incredulity even through the coldness, and it made her laugh. "Because you're beautiful."

There was another long pause, before he said, "Don't… lie… to me."

"I'm not lying." She looked up and saw that he was moving slowly down the tree trunk, not so much crawling as sliding slowly, his eyes never leaving her.

"I'm not… the boy… you want to draw."

His words struck her, but she wouldn't let it show. Instead she bent over her drawing again. "I don't believe that."

"That boy… is gone. He's dead… beneath… the ice."

"I _don't believe that_." She looked up at him. "Jack, I know you're in there. Even if it's just the slightest vestige of you – then it's you. And I love you." Her voice barely cracked. "So, I draw you."

"_Stop_." He swung his staff down and struck it through the snow before Rapunzel, obliterating the drawing. "Don't… say things like… that."

"Like what? That I love you?" Rapunzel pushed herself up so that she could be on his level. One blue eye was barely visible beneath the sheet of ice.

"Drawing me." He dropped his gaze. "You're only drawing… what you want… to see." His words were speeding up; he seemed to be getting angry. "And you're only loving… a dream…"

"Why does it upset you, Jack?"

"Stop – trying to pin – me down!" The air was getting colder and the wind was starting to pick up. "Love—art—names—they're all the same thing. They're all – chains—pulling me down."

Rapunzel shook her head. "You're wrong, Jack. I don't want to pull you down. I… I think I love you best when you're flying and free, and happy." She stared at him, and when he didn't respond, she pressed on, "Jack – my Jack – I know you're still there. I know that you're still alive, even though you cover yourself in ice. And so I'll capture you every way I can – I'll draw you, sing about you, stitch you into silk, I'll chase you to the ends of the earth, until you come back to me, or until I'm sure that you're dead. If you come back to me, Jack, we can be free and happy together, I _promise_."

He shook his head. "Don't – don't talk like that—that name – those lies –"

"They're not lies, Jack."

"Just leave me alone, Zellie!" He stepped back from her, swung his staff in a wide arc, and summoned up a wind. It took him away and it took Rapunzel's breath away, to see him take off, dwindling until he was almost the size of a star, and then out of sight.

It was then that she began to feel really cold. She wrapped her hair around herself and started to walk back to the cabin. She hadn't walked for more than ten minutes before the empty field of snow was interrupted by a black shadow that landed on it, cat-like. Hiccup jumped off of the dragon's back and hurried forward to take Rapunzel onto the saddle.

"There you are – Merida's been worried sick, we all have been – why are you smiling?"

"He called me 'Zellie.'"


	4. Someone to Watch Over Me

**Safe Haven**

(A Hogwarts AU, in which Rapunzel is a Hufflepuff and Jack a Slytherin. I know most Hogwarts AU writers put Rapunzel in Ravenclaw, but to me she seems a Hufflepuff from top to toe - fair-minded, cheerful, true to her word, not to mention extremely industrious. I like to imagine she leads house singalongs, and believe me, they do singalongs in House Hufflepuff.)

(P.S. I don't own Hogwarts.)

* * *

First day of school at Hogwarts, and Rapunzel was, as usual, one of the first Hufflepuffs to reach the Great Hall for breakfast. Her long braids, woven with black ribbons (Hufflepuff pride!) swung beside her as she sat down. She was just helping herself to orange juice when a hand tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around and gave a happy shriek.

"Jack!" she jumped up and hugged him as if they hadn't seen each other in years. Which was not too far off – Rapunzel and her mother lived in Hogsmeade, so she never took the Hogwarts Express to the castle, and only Merida was allowed to visit her over the summer. She stepped back, giving his trachea time to relax. "You've gotten taller," she said, looking him up and down.

"Thanks," he said. One hand flew to his strikingly colored hair to preen, automatically, but he scanned the Hufflepuff table up and down as he did so, with uncharacteristic anxiety.

"What are you looking for?" she asked.

"Zellie, you remember the Sorting last night – did you meet Mary Katherine Overland, new Hufflepuff extraordinaire?"

"Of course, I welcomed her in the common room," Rapunzel nodded. "She seemed really sweet."

There was a pause, while he looked at her expectantly. Rapunzel fidgeted, wondering what she was doing wrong – then her eyes brightened. "She's your sister, isn't she?"

"That took you long enough," he quipped.

"What? Overland is a common last name."

"Not that common."

"I was more interested in that Pacifica Pico kid who went to Ravenclaw. Now that is a cool name!"

"Zellie."

"Besides, you don't look anything alike."

He paused. "Y'got me there. Anywho… I introduced her to Merida and Hiccup on the train, and was planning on introducing you guys in Diagon Alley but…"

"That didn't work out." Once again, Rapunzel's mother had insisted that excursions to London were too dangerous, and mail-order shopping worked just as well anyway, and why did Rapunzel _depend_ so much on those friends of hers, anyway?

"Yeah."

"And you want me to look out for her."

"… Yeah. I hope it's not too much – she's just – she's really shy. I was hoping she'd sort into Slytherin, but she takes after Dad, I guess."

She giggled. She had never seen him look so discomfited. Asking for help on schoolwork of any kind was a piece of cake – but asking for help to look after his little sis? That was tough.

"She's a really lucky girl, you know."

"Oh? Because she's got me for a big brother?"

"Because whatever House the Hat picked, she'd have someone looking out for her. Don't worry, Jack, I'll look after her like she was my own little sister."

"Starting today."

"Starting right now." They both glanced to the faculty table, where the first years – Mary Katherine Overland included – were picking up their very first timetables. Mary Katherine saw both of them and waved.

Rapunzel waved back and gestured 'Sit by me.' Jack grinned at her.

"Just don't be too good of an influence on her. A little devilry is the family tradition."

"Mm-hmm. And Jack?"

"Yeah?"

She took his wrist, stood on tiptoe, and kissed his cheek. He stared at her, completely flabbergasted for once in his life.

"Happy back-to-school," she said, and then turned away with a serene smile. "Mary Katherine! I didn't realize you were Jack's sister – but he's told me so much about you."


	5. This is the Part Where

Better To Have Loved and Lost

(This is the Part Where...)

A/N: Good news, folks! I've decided that these short stories will continue on, for about as long as I'm interested. I was in fact trying to puzzle out a new Jackunzel story (hint: robots), but between loss of a computer and gain of a new one never really had time for that, which was what caused last week's hiccup. But you get this week's story a day early. Thank you for reading, and be sure to review!

* * *

Here you come. You're walking towards me, on your way to the first day of school – this is the part where you'd see me and give me that smile –

This is the part where you don't see me.

This the part where I turn my head to watch you go, while you scan the trees and sky looking for me. You won't see me.

There you go.

Maybe tonight, it'll dawn on you as to why. And then, I know you, you'll run outside and call for me, even if it's the middle of the night. You'll yell my name, and you'll beg me to show, to say good-bye, if nothing else.

I'll be there, my heart breaking because I'll be wrapped in silence and shadows, and I want to touch you but I would rather die than run my hands through you, like I'm mist. And you won't see me, no matter how hard you want to. Maybe I'll be able to give you some sign – even if it's just a breeze in your hair – that will have to be our good-bye.

There you go, down the street. Your head is bowed now, and I want so much to reach out to you and hold you, make you smile with the colors I paint on the world around you.

We always knew this wouldn't last. I'm a spirit, ageless and anchorless in the world. You're human, you're bound to eat and sleep, age and sicken. You're bound to love and be loved – and you are so lovable, my darling – you're bound to light up the world wherever you go. And I'm bound to only watch you, now.

I'm following you now, trailing behind you on the wind, and I'm going to keep my watch on you until you enter your school, that building that teaches you how to be an adult, the building that you said you hated, because it did its best to tear you away from me before you were ready. And yet you held on – no one else could have been so stubborn. No child has ever seen me as late into their teens as you have.

And you know what? I know that this childlike spirit of yours is what's going to make you into an amazing adult. You're going to touch and inspire so many people, and I wish that I could be there with you –

No. There's no use in wishing, now.

I won't ever forget you – I know that sounds like an easy thing to say, but I mean it. I promise. Our time together, and the love that we shared – that will forever be a part of me, and of you. Go ahead, and love other people – love as many people as you can – fall in love again, marry, have children, I want you to live as full a life as possible – just know that with every turn of the seasons, when the leaves spring up green and the flowers bloom again and the summer sun colors the world, know that that's my paintbrush. I'm painting for you, Jack Overland.

You're at school now. You're still looking for me. It's okay. Go ahead and listen to your friends. I want to see you smiling, and happy.

That's better.

There's the bell. When you enter the school I won't cry – I'm going to fly away and get to work. I have a lot of work to do, ushering out the summer properly. But until that last moment, I'm going to watch you. This last moment of protection for my friend who always swore he didn't need protection. You pause at the door – You look up –

Do you see me?

I won't ever know. You bow your head, and turn to start another day at school.

I love you with all of my heart, and then I turn away. It's still only a new day, and I've got lots to do.

This is the part where I say good-bye.

This is the part where I leave.


	6. Oil in the Garden

Oil in the Garden

A/N: I started to write a little Big Four Steampunk AU idea. It's too elaborate for me to really work out nowadays, but I still have ideas for little snippets. Like this one! For this, all you need to know is that Jack is a steam-powered robot, who has escaped the constrictions of his clockwork life, but danger waits for him at every corner. If you like a visual reference, look up 'Rabbit' from Steam-Powered Giraffe, because I sure had him in mind as I wrote Robot!Jack.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, but I hope you enjoy!

* * *

He is in a garden: that is the word that eluded him before. As the sun becomes bright enough that he can disengage his nochto-luminescient goggles and see the world with its own illumination, he recognizes the place he's never been in: a winding path lined in seashells, flowers blooming brightly and organized in neat beds. Garden. He has never been in a garden before; he would gladly take the opportunity to learn more, but he hears the door to the house opening.

His first directive takes precedence: do not be seen.

He clutches his damaged arm to him and ducks under a bush covered with light colored flowers. He keeps his glass-blue eyes focused on the human who comes out of the house. Will he be Scientist, Police Officer, Man of Power, or...?

But the human is none of those things. This human is female, something he has not had the luxury to examine in person. She wears a light purple dress that leaves her ankles and feet free to run and skip. Her hair - as bright yellow as anything he has seen, ever - is long and loose except for a big bow, which matches her dress. Short dress, loose hair - together they mean child.

He feels the gears inside of him turning and churning, but he suppresses the urge to run up to the child and introduce himself. So what if that is what he was programmed to do from the moment of his creation? One, he is Making His Own Way In the World, and that means ignoring his own programming to find something truer, something more earnest. Two, a girl child, still in the thrall of her parents, is dangerous to him. He can't afford to be found and caught. Not now. Not now.

So, he watches.

The girl has an easel and a board of watercolors under her arm. She spends a moment simply looking out at the world with her lips quirked up at the corners, before proceeding down the steps.

She walks a bit and stops, bending down to pick up one of the seashells lining the path. She puts the structure of calcium carbonate up to her ear, and holds it there awhile.

With it there, her expression changes. The smile she was wearing fades away.

What the devil was she listening to it for, he wonders, if it would only make her not happy?

Then her expression changes again. She looks focused and confused. She puts the shell down carefully and walks forward five paces, before bending down again to -

Oh, no.

There was a dollop of black oil on the path. She reaches out to touch it with a bare hand, then pulls out a white handkerchief. When she daubes the handkerchief in the goo, it stuck.

The fugitive in the bush begins to feel the first stirrings of panic. What should he do now? Should he run? Should he try to scare her off? Uh. Uh. Uh? What would Byron do?

… What Byron would do would probably get him arrested in several counties...

Oh devils. She's coming closer... how was she able to find him so quickly? He'd not heard humans were so...

He'd left behind a trail of oil! Damn his damaged arm, damn it to scrap metal!

He had to get rid of it. Maybe if he disconnects it... on the other hand, he does like this arm very much...

While he deliberates, a large easel shoves the leaves aside. The girl-child stares at him, and then shrieks, falling back. The leaves shield her from sight once more, and he considers making a run for it.

Two, three, four seconds pass, and he darts out of the bush, only to be met by the girl, waiting for him, her oils and canvas discarded and the easel folded up and held out like a sword. She points it at him.

"Who are you?" she asks. "And what are you doing in my garden?"

He declines to answer, trying to make a run for it. What he doesn't know, though, is the layout of the garden. He sprints for the far gate, only to trip, and tumble, and fall into a ha-ha, a sunken reverse-fence.

And he lands on his bad arm.

Wincing as the metal limb bends awkwardly under him, he looks up to see the face of his hunter looming above him, green eyes wide.

"Who are you?" she says again. "Answer, or - or I'll call the police!"

No, no, not the police, not them, anyone but them -

So he blurts out his answer: "I'm Jack. I'm Jack. Just Jack. Don't call them. Please."

She leans a little more over the ha-ha, her expression no longer quite so forbidding. "What are you? Are you a clank?"

"I am an automaton," he answers. "And I am certainly not a clank."

"You're metal, right? Are you hurt?"

He looks up at her, and realizes the name for what he is feeling: fear. He is damaged, unable to simply pull and spring his way out of this dreadful ha-ha. His escape is almost certainly ruined; the fate before him is grim. The only thing he can do now, he realizes, is trust her.

He sighs, a puff of steam leaving his exerted silver lungs. "I am hurt. I need a place to hide."


	7. The North

(Another story set in the Avatar verse. Imagine that this is set well before the Hundred Years' War; let's just say in the era of Avatar Kyoshi, because I really like Avatar Kyoshi.

This story is inspired at least a little by the upcoming _Frozen_. Okay, more than a little. And it's months after the events of _Blue Moon_.)

* * *

Rapunzel shivered, and blew on her hands. Her Breath of Fire was the closest she could come to practical firebending, and for a moment heat moved out from her lungs to her whole body. Then she was cold again, colder than she'd ever been in her life.

"We could be at the Festival now," she said to their little fire.

"You saw the first day of it; the first day's the best anyway. There's the dancing lights in the sky, the dancing and the singing, and then the second day's nothing but speeches and awards. At least," Jack corrected himself, "That's how it is in the South."

"And we came all the way to the North Pole for this Festival. I just wish we could have stayed a little longer."

"There'll still be dancing lights in the sky when we get back," Jack said to her. He paused. "Probably." A light _shhk shhk_ noise filled their little cave: Jack was whittling on his staff.

Rapunzel sighed, and remembered the previous two days. She and Jack had come to the North Pole to visit the Dancing Lights Festival, which Jack remembered fondly from his days living in the Southern Water Tribe. They had hoped that his white hair and her golden hair could remain safely hidden under braids and hoods; however, a chance wind had exposed Jack's moon-silver hair to the world. The North tribespeople had reacted with outright shock and fear. They had just been making plans to leave quickly and quietly when a summons came from the Chieftain of the tribe.

When they arrived at the northern palace, they were met by the acting Chieftaness, a slight young lady, no older than Rapunzel herself. She wore her black hair, streaked with silver, in two simple plaits, and her blue eyes were rimmed in red. She introduced herself as merely the Princess of the Water Tribe, and explained to them her story.

She was never meant to become Cheiftainess, being the younger sister of two. Her father died two months ago, and her older sister, being unmarried, took on the responsibilities of Cheiftainess, in spite of all their tradition. However, her older sister had long ago been cursed – or blessed – or somehow involved with – a spirit of winter, leaving her hair as white as Jack's. With the stress of ruling, this curse drove the older sister mad, and she attacked her own Tribe with vicious bending of water and ice, and fled into the frozen north.

The tribespeople had decried the older sister as a monster, and claimed that Jack was a lackey of hers, sent out to do harm. But the Princess said that she knew her sister wasn't a monster, and tasked Jack and Rapunzel with going towards the north pole and finding the "Snow Queen," as the tribespeople called her, and bringing her home.

And that led to Rapunzel, her hair crusted with snow, feet and fingertips numb, curled up in a cave in the middle of a blizzard, while Jack, her friend and the expert on traveling in Arctic conditions – _'What do you think a Fire Girl knows about life in the ice, Jack? Are you paying any attention to me at all_?' – sat whittling at his staff at the mouth of the cave.

"Isn't the wind rough?" she asked.

He shrugged. "The cold never bothered me anyway."

She frowned at the staff. Had he been doing more than whittling? Was he sharpening the crook at the top into a point – a weapon? He'd started using the staff to help his Waterbending at the Northern Air Temple, like the monks used gliders. In the canal-laced city of the Water Tribe, he'd proudly shown off his unorthodox waterbending tool, as if to emphasize how different he was from his tribesmen. Because he wanted to stand out. The tribe had rejected him, and he'd reject them right back.

Right?

"What are you whittling?" she asked, casually as she could through chattering teeth. The spasms of shivering were the worst, she thought.

"A symbol of the Northern Water Tribe. Below the symbol for the Air Temple. I've decided this staff is going to tell a story, sign by sign."

"How nice!" she said. "Glad to see you're taking after me."

"Yes," he said, sending a smile her way. "Your artsiness has a contagious effect."

She laughed, and fell still, right before another severe fit of shivering fell on her. "F-f-funny, I thought-t you were carving it into a weapon."

"And so what if I am? Put some more wood on the fire, Zel, you'll freeze."

"What? What do you need a weapon for?"

"Um, did you forget what we're up to?" he asked. "Chasing down a monstrous Snow Queen who can animate snow to her whims – and there's snow _everywhere_ – I'd say a weapon is a good thing."

"Don't you remember what the Princess said? 'My sister is not a monster.' Those were her exact words."

"I'm not taking a chance on that. She's her sister; not exactly unbiased." He left the mouth of the cave and sat opposite the fire to her. "What's up with you?" he asked, after Rapunzel dropped her eyes, avoiding his gaze.

"… Why did you accept this so readily? Jack, I can't really firebend, and you're a good bender, but I'm not sure you're capable of facing this – the way the tribespeople talk about her, she's like a force of nature."

"Zellie, _we're_ forces of nature. It's written on our hair, or have you forgotten?" he asked with a grin. "I'm sure we can handle this together."

"But why were you so eager for it?" She punched at the fire morosely, and a sad spurt of flame jumped from her hand. "Did you find the Princess to be that pretty?"

"No! I mean, she _was_ pretty, but… she was the first person I've ever met who looked at me and didn't see a freak. She—"

"The first person? Jack, what about me?"

"I'm sorry! I meant the first person from the Water Tribe."

"I thought you'd left them behind…" Rapunzel said into her furs.

"What was that? You're mumbling, Zellie."

"_Please_ don't say I'm mumbling," Rapunzel said, the flames flaring up. She calmed herself, rubbing her hands steadily closer to the fire. "If it's not to impress the Princess, why are you doing this? We don't need reward money, and we don't need to mess with spirits more than we already have. So… why?"

Jack didn't answer for a long time. Finally he said, "In the Water Tribe, we believe that the community comes first in everything. A favor to the community, and then a favor to the individual. That's how we achieve balance. Push and pull. For a young man – such as myself – who's lost his place in the community, he can attempt some brave task that the Tribe needs to be done. You could call it a quest, if you want to be old-fashioned about it. It restores your place in the Tribe. It restores your honor."

"Wait – you mean like a _hunt_?"

"Well… yeah."

"Where you track down an innocent animal and bring back its pelt and eat its meat?"

"Hey, Zel, don't give me that. I've seen you chow down on pig-chicken roast as much as the next girl."

"Yes, but we're hunting for a _person_ here."

"That's according to the Princess, who, doe-eyed looks aside, is not an unbiased source."

"Jack, have you forgotten that according to some people, _we're_ monsters?"

"That's what I'm trying to undo. If I can be recognized as a warrior, I'll be able to hold my head up high in the Tribe again."

"Is that what you've really wanted? All this time we've been adventuring? I thought you were running away!" Rapunzel bit her lip. "With me."

"Well… m-maybe I'm not ironclad sure what I want." Jack curled up, his staff pressed close to him, a barrier. "And maybe I don't want you nagging me about it, either."

Rapunzel clenched her fists so hard that her nails dug into her skin. She dimly heard Jack warn her that she should really put some gloves on.

"I know what _I_ want," she said abruptly. "I want to find the poor girl who's lost in a blizzard and who's scared and who's lost even herself. I want to find her, and I will treat her like a person. Like someone who needs to be healed. Like a friend."

"And when that _friend_ freezes you solid, I'll be there to break you out of it," Jack answered, eyes on his staff.

Rapunzel shook her head. "You taking first watch?"

"Yes. I'll keep the fire lit."

She lay with her back to him, curled up tightly in the fur-lined sleeping bags (courtesy of the generous Princess), and tried to sleep. But the words she wasn't saying were bouncing inside of her worse than playful porpoises.

'_I thought that you were beyond this. I thought you were beyond wanting approval, and thirsting for honor and glory. I thought you were beyond seeing people as monsters._'

'_Or maybe_,' she thought, '_I'm the one who can't see monsters, as I was raised by one. I can't comprehend honor, because there's no competition in an isolated convent. Maybe I'm the one who's wrong, aren't I so often wrong_?' and these old, old fears kept her from sharing her worries with Jack, and made her sleep restless.

When she woke up to take the second watch, she kept the fire lively with as much energy as she dared expend. Oh, how she _hated_ this cold!

* * *

(A/N: I have an idea that shortly afterwards, the Princess joined them on this adventure to rescue her sister. Were they successful? You'll probably have to wait until November to find out!)


End file.
